


We're Just Strangers

by swcnsmagic



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: AU, Angst with a Happy Ending, Captain Swan - Freeform, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Freeform, Friends to Lovers, Romance, Slow Burn, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 15:29:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11039022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swcnsmagic/pseuds/swcnsmagic
Summary: Five years ago, Killian simply packed up and left Boston without a word to anyone. Emma found an empty apartment, devoid of her best friend. For the entire time, Emma has wanted an explanation, but when she gets the chance of one, she runs from it.Killian simply wants to explain, and won't give up until he does.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfic is inspired by the song 'Strangers' by Halsey, including the name of this fic. If any of you have started my other multi chapter fic 'Work For It', I promise I haven't given up after the first chapter. I'll update soon!
> 
> For now, I hope you enjoy the start of this new fanfic!

Emma winced as she sank back against her apartment door, her feet protesting in the 6 inch heels she'd donned in a bid to take down her latest perp. She got the guy. She always did.

Discarding the stilettos quickly, she padded into the kitchen, in search of a bottle of wine and the latest book she'd found herself engrossed in (she was only 3 chapters in but there were several dog-eared pages already). Her phone buzzed just as she was about to reach for the glass.

_**David: You catch him?** _

Emma smiled and shook her head. David was always the overbearing father figure, having never had one as a child.

**_Emma: Are you kidding? I always get them._ **

**_David: I know, I know. Habit to check in, I suppose._ **

**_Emma: You really do sound like my dad when you talk like this._ **

**_David: Oh, do forgive me for wanting to make sure you're okay._ **

**_Emma: I'm kidding._ **

**_David: I know. It's late, get some sleep._ **

**_Emma: Yes, Dad._ **

She was about to reconsider the glass of wine and her book, before a sharp knock at the door sounded. Confused, Emma glanced at the clock, noting it was gone midnight. She was tempted to ignore it and go to bed. It was late, and if it were someone important, they would have texted her. But her curiosity got the better of her, and she found herself walking towards the door. Opening it slowly, Emma was not prepared for the face on the other side waiting for her.

In front of her stood one Killian Jones.

"Emma?"

The door had fully swung open and Emma could only stand there with a racing heart and a dry mouth. Her head was spinning at the situation.

"Killian? What the fuck are you doing here?" she breathed.

"I came back," he shrugged. The bastard _shrugged_.

She scoffed at that. Just as silently as he'd disappeared all those years ago, he'd appeared again. "You shouldn't have," she said coldy.

"Emma, just listen —"

"No, Killian! You don't have a right to be here. Not after five years without so much of a text, or a letter, or anything." Emma was fuming. He had the _audacity_ to just show up and expect her listen to him. He tried to reach for her, but Emma stepped back quickly.

"I have to explain," he said quietly.

"I don't want you to. I want you to leave."

"Please, Emma," he pleaded. This was not the Killian she knew, broken and begging. She knew cocky and self-assured, witty and full of innuendo. Not this faulty copy of the man she used to call her best friend.

"Go," she demanded, her voice as hard as steel, cold as ice.

Bowing his head reluctantly, he began to trudge away. Emma quickly shut the door and sank down against it. Her stomach was in knots, her palms clammy and her heart still racing.

Then came the tears.

They were silent at first. Slow, steady, silent. But then the emotions caught up with her muddled brain and sobs began to wrack and shake her body. Somewhere amidst the chaos of her mind, the memory from five years ago presented itself, clear as day.

_Emma opened the door to Killian's apartment, carrying a bag of Chinese in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. "Killian? You home?" she called out._

_To her surprise, there wasn't a reply. Shrugging it off, she set the dinner in the kitchen and went to his room to see if he was there. When she didn't find him there either, she checked the bathroom. Empty. Confused, she pulled out her phone to call him and demand why he wasn't home for Chinese night. It was unlike him to not text or call her to tell her._

_What she wasn't expecting was for a phone to start ringing in the bedroom._

_Walking back into the room, she looked around carefully, noticing things she hadn't before. All of Killian's clothes were gone from the closet; the hangers empty and like a skeleton revealed._

_With realisation dawning over her, Emma sprinted back into the living room, searching for his laptop, which was gone too. His passport and wallet were both gone from the drawer in the kitchen too. Emma tried to rationalise. Perhaps he'd been called away on an emergency meeting, or a relative needed him. She knew neither of them could be true. Killian's work was solely Boston based, and he had no family._

_Like her._

_She checked the kitchen and his bedroom for a note, anything that would tell her where he went. But there was nothing. Grabbing her phone once more, she called David, a lump forming in her throat._

_"Hey, Emma," he greeted._

_"David, have you spoken to Killian today?" she asked frantically._

_"No, I haven't, Ems. Something wrong?"_

_"He isn't here."_

_"What do you mean?"_

_"I mean I've come over to his for dinner, like every Friday night. He isn't here, David." Emma could feel her voice become shakier as the conversation progressed._

_"He might be out. Have you phoned him?"_

_"Of course I've phoned him! But his phone's here! He didn't take it," she shrieked._

_"Emma, calm down," David tried to soothe her._

_"His clothes are gone. All of them. His closet's empty. He took his passport, wallet and laptop, too. But not his phone! Why not his fucking phone, David?" Emma was in hysterics now, tears flowing freely has the panic rose further and further, clawing at her throat, strangling her lungs._

_"What about a note? Is there a note anywhere? The kitchen?" David was beginning to sound equally as distressed, minus the tears._

_"Nothing. There is nothing, David."_

_"Shit," he muttered._

_"He's gone," she sobbed._

_"We don't know that, Ems."_

_"He's gone, David! He left! He didn't leave a note or anything, he just left!" Emma cried._

_"I'm coming to pick you up," he said plainly._

_"David —"_

_"You're not in the right state, Emma. I'll be there in 10 minutes," David said sternly._

_With that, Emma ended the call, and allowed herself to sink to the floor in a heap. She was against the wall in the bedroom, staring blankly at the empty closet. Sobs bubbled up in her chest, which came out choked and broken, followed by streams of tears. The only thought circulating Emma's mind at that point was "why?" He'd left her, knowing everything about her past and how people had simply gone. He'd left her, after promising to be different and always be by her side. He'd left her without so much of a text or a call or a letter or a voicemail._

_He'd left her, and she didn't know why._

She found herself in the same position now, staring blankly into space, huddled into a ball against the wall whilst crying painfully. The same thought lingered: why? After five years with radio silence, Killian shows up at her apartment. Wasn't this what she wanted? Her best friend? For five years she'd longed to have him back, for an explanation as to what went wrong. But now the opportunity had presented itself, Emma found herself shunning it and running the hell away from it.

She gathered herself from the floor and made her way back into the kitchen, reaching for her phone. The whole thing seemed like dé ja vu. Killian shocks Emma, Emma breaks down, Emma phones David needing help.

"Emma? Something wrong?" came David's voice through the phone.

"Killian's back," she blurted through a shaky breath. A few seconds of silence passed without a response from David.

"David?"

"Killian? After five years?"

"Yeah," she sighed.

"How do you know?" he asked.

"He was just here."

"He was _what_? I'm going to kick his ass," David grumbled.

"I sent him away," Emma said quietly.

"What did he say?"

"He wanted to explain. I said no. Told him to go," she said bluntly.

"Huh," was his response.

"What?"

"Nothing," he said airily.

"David, tell me," she demanded.

A heavy sigh came through the phone. "For five years, you've wanted an explanation, or anything from him. And now he's here, you don't want anything to do with him. What's that all about, Emma?"

She'd thought the same. "I don't know," she whispered. "I guess it hurts too much."

"He hurt you. Badly." It wasn't a question, everyone knew Emma had been burned when Killian left.

"He ruined me."

"Maybe he just wants a chance," he suggested.

"Killian had five years full of chances," Emma scoffed.

"We don't know why he left, Emma. We don't know what he's been up to."

"A moment ago you wanted to kick his ass and now you want me to give him a a chance?" Emma asked in disbelief.

"It's late, Emma. Think about it tomorrow. Get some sleep."

"Night, David," she sighed.

Hanging up the phone, Emma made her way into her room and got ready for bed drearily. Crawling under the covers, she stared up at the ceiling, thinking quietly to herself. David had been right. The whole time Killian was gone, she'd wanted answers. She'd wanted to know what drove him away so suddenly, and why he never contacted anyone in half a decade.

She'd lost her best friend, after being promised that she would never be without him. And it hurt. It really hurt. In some ways, it hurt more than Neal's betrayal. She wanted to forgive him, to let him back into her life, as she'd imagined doing for so long. But now, she couldn't bring herself to do it. She couldn't open herself back up to the potential hurt Killian could bring about once more.

But there was something else bugging Emma. It was Killian's whole demeanour when she'd been face to face with him not half an hour ago. Emma remembered his face always hosting a smirk, or a wicked glint in his eye that only meant trouble. The man she saw today was a fake, a fraud of who he used to be. His eyebrows were furrowed together, his eyes holding a weight she'd never seen before. His posture was too stiff, to rigid, where before he was relaxed and sauntered everywhere. Everything was just wrong about him. Something had changed him in his time away, for the worse. He'd been hurt, she knew that much. Emma could recognise hurt and pain a mile away. Frustrated with the predicament she now found herself in, she rolled onto her side and buried her head in a pillow, hoping sleep would come soon.

It did. And the last thing she could think of was the tortured look in Killian's eyes before she fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry for not updating sooner! exams have been stressful lately and i've barely found time to write.   
> i'll be updating Work For It soon too, i promise!

As Emma closed the door in his face, Killian felt his heart clench horribly. He berated himself; he knew full well what he did five years ago and how Emma dealt with people abandoning her. In no life would she ever have welcomed him back with opening arms.

The memory of his leaving town was still as fresh, as painful, as it was at the time. He thinks back to rushing around his apartment in a frenzy, eyes bleary with tears, a racing heart and shaking hands unable to grasp anything properly. He remembers pulling out his phone and clicking on Emma’s name a dozen times, yet never managing to make the call or text. Then there were the discarded sheets of paper with scribbled ‘goodbye’s and ‘I’m sorry’s and ‘you deserve better’s, hidden at the bottom of his trash can where she would never think to look.

Every day he was gone, the memory hung over him like a burden, thinking of how Emma reacted.

No, he didn’t just think, he _knew_.

He _knew_ about Emma’s life growing up, _knew_ about how she was always being replaced and forgotten. Countless times Killian had told her that he refused to be another one who left, that he would always be her best friend. But he failed her when he left without a word. He knew Emma would be broken, another promise ripped to shreds.

And yet, he had hope that she would forgive him.

Walking back down the corridor, he scoffed at his own stupidity. God, _forgive_ him. Killian genuinely thought she’d forget his betrayal and allow him to explain. He was furious and upset and broken, and every other emotion one could expect to feel in a situation such as his current predicament. Emma was quite possibly the best thing he’d ever had in life, and the man he was five years ago decided to give it up. And what for?

For his own heart.

Pure and simple, Killian had left because he had to save his own heart.

Five years ago, he was falling in love with his best friend. It was a dangerous situation to be in, especially when your best friend is Emma Swan. He’d been there when Neal left her high and dry in a robbery investigation, setting her up to take the fall for his crime. Neal had swept through like a hurricane, and Emma was left stranded, broken and weak. From that moment on, he’d watched Emma build up her walls, shoving away anyone who tried to get close. The only people that she held onto were Killian, Mary Margaret and David. For a few years, that was. Along came people like Ruby, Regina and more, and Emma was still wary of them for months, until she allowed herself to start trusting them bit by bit.

But friendships were the only sort of relationships Emma did from then on. There were no romantic involvements, only one night stands from time to time. _“I don’t do love. Not anymore.”_ Too many times had Killian heard those words, only for his heart to crack a bit more each time.

And thus, he left. One night it had all become too much for him to bear, and he decided he needed to save himself before he too was broken beyond repair. The pain he felt whilst leaving was probably just as great as it would have been to be denied properly by Emma, but she would never know the reason why he just disappeared. For that, Killian had never hated himself more.

In the years that had passed, Killian was living with his brother in London. He found work as a lawyer, making a respectable salary. Liam had been prompting Killian to “come home” for as long as he could remember, so when he needed to leave, London was the first place he thought of going. Liam and his wife, Elsa, had welcomed him happily and were delighted to know that he would be staying for a long time. He had been content with his new life; his job kept him busy but he enjoyed the challenge it brought with it, he always loved challenges. Killian had never been one to back down from one. Or so he’d thought.

Perhaps the greatest challenge he’d ever faced in life came in the form of Emma. He’d been presented with the challenge of staying and either trying to keep their relationship platonic, or admit how he felt and risk losing everything. But instead, he ran.

 _Only a coward runs_ , he’d thought daily from then on. And Killian _hated_ cowards.

Every day he’d envisioned what his life would be like if he’d told Emma how he felt, or even if he’d just kept quiet but still stuck around. Certainly, he would probably be much happier, Emma just had that effect on him. It was so easy to be in her presence, because they’d both had their fair share of rough experiences in life. They’d clicked ever since they met, finding similarities in one another and knowing that the other wouldn’t have to pretend to know what the other had experienced. It was a truly valuable friendship; it was the best Killian had ever had. But he threw it away.

He’d just given his apartment to Will Scarlet while he was gone, not wanting the hassle of selling or renting to a complete stranger. The sooner he was out of town, he figured, the better. Prior to his returning, he’d contacted Will and told him he’d need the apartment back, and Will gave it up with no hesitation. To be frank, he thought that Will was just glad Killian had finally decided to come home.

While his mind had been occupied, his feet had found their way to the road outside Emma’s apartment complex, where a line of cabs sat waiting. He flagged one down and reluctantly sat inside and mumbled the address to the driver. It was only a 10 minute drive, but Killian preferred to sit and stare blankly out to the flashing lights and bustling life of the city he once called home.

It didn’t feel like home anymore. Too long he’d been parted with it, choosing to spend his time in England instead. Despite his efforts, Liam had never really managed to make Killian fully content in London. Now, he saw himself as a drifter, someone who didn’t have roots dug firmly into the ground. Five years ago he would have said without hesitation that Boston was where he belonged. If you asked him now, he’d say he was just passing through, enjoying the sights.

As the lights flashed, so did Killian’s brain. Swirls of memories, happy ones, with Emma flew through his mind, reminding him of the life he once had. There were several occasions where he and Emma frantically sprinted down the block in an attempt to find refuge from the icy sheets of rain that were beating down relentlessly. In the winter, when Emma had held his arm so tightly in fear of coming across a patch of black ice and falling over. Though, that never worked out well for either of them, as Killian was the unfortunate one. He remembered falling, but making it so Emma landed on top of him and not the pavement.

That would have been 6 years ago now, but Killian knows that _that_ was when he realised he was in love with his best friend.

The realisation brought with it a new demeanour for him; he became even more flirtatious with other woman and sarcastic with Emma. One night stands were an almost nightly occurrence, and he began to see his best friend less. Emma noticed, constantly asking what was wrong, but he shrugged her off every time. It was then that he knew it wasn’t the night he left that Emma’s heart had broken, but long before. For a year, she must have believed that she had done something wrong, offended him somehow, but could never figure out what it was. She tried to remain herself, upbeat and witty, but whenever he made a snide comment, he saw the hurt flicker across her face before the mask was pulled back on, tighter than before.

When they’d first met, everyone had warned them about each other. Emma was fragile, but held an air of strength around her unlike anyone Killian had ever known. He saw through her façade of being haughty and emotionless, knowing that she was indeed the opposite beneath the rough exterior. Killian had a well-maintained façade of his own, one where he channelled his pain through acting cocky and self-assured, throwing innuendos whenever he saw an opportunity. Time and time again their friends had told them that they would clash, that it would never work. But they made something out of their differences, and for six years, it was pretty damn spectacular.

He’d tried to hang the guilt of his leaving on Emma, tried to blame her for making him leave, only to find himself loathing his decision and himself more. _Of course_ it couldn’t have been her fault, he’d never said a word to her.

Oh, how he wished he’d not been the coward he had been. _Perhaps things would be better,_ he thought longingly. _Perhaps she’d have been able to move past it and I’d still have my best friend_.

As much as he wanted Emma back in his life, his heart ached for more than the platonic relationship they’d once fallen into easily. The five years he’d been gone were for his heart to heal, to forget the love he felt for the blonde-haired beauty. The days had dragged on into months, eventually into years, his heart and soul still yearning for something that could never be. His misery turned the atmosphere in Liam’s home sour and melancholic, the stench of loneliness and heartbreak too much to bear. Liam had urged him to go back, to at least _try_ to explain to her, but he’d always brushed the pleas off.

In all honesty, he had no idea why _now_ was when he’d decided to finally come back, to face the pain head on once more. It could have easily been any other day before, and there were several times when Killian had come close to booking an impromptu flight and hurriedly packing a suitcase, but those plans always fell through. He’d allowed the fear to claw away at him, constricting his chest and making it impossible to think clearly.

The cab pulled up outside his apartment complex, and he swiftly paid the driver and climbed out. He couldn’t stand to be inside the stifling cab anymore, needing to be in his own space where at least the sadness could spread out without strangling him so much. Trudging up the stairs slowly, he fought back the lingering tears that were battling, and winning, to leak from his eyes. He unlocked his door hastily, slamming it shut and sinking against it, where he allowed the tears to flow, no longer holding back. Seeing Emma today was possibly the best and worst thing that had happened to him in a very long time. Being reminded of her face, which had become sharper and even more striking than he remembered, made his heart clench in the best way known to man. While before her green eyes, piercing as they were, had haunted him, they calmed him instead.

But then she had shunned him, though rightfully so on her part, and his heart broke just a bit more. And now he found himself curled into a ball, heart sinking and falling like the tears rolling down his cheeks steadily. Killian had never been one to cry, not really, but perhaps he’d kept the façade up for too long and the emotions were too overwhelming to suppress them any longer.

In his pocket, his phone started to ring, and he pulled it out of his pocket to see Emma’s caller ID. The tears came to a sudden stop, and he froze, the phone still ringing insistently in his hand. The contact photo was one with a much younger pair, wrapped up in hats, scarves and gloves with rosy cheeks and grinning broadly at the camera. The photo caused Killian to smile sadly, remembering the happy day.

Despite having left his phone in Boston before he left, the second he got a new one he instantly inputted Emma’s number from memory, knowing she wouldn’t go to the trouble of changing it. He found the photo he loved so much on his Facebook, and stared at it for who knows how long, thinking over his decision again and again.

The phone stopped ringing abruptly, possibly Emma regretting her decision and quickly trying to hang up before he answered. His heart sunk some more, debating whether to call her back. Instead, he constructed a simple text.

_I’m sorry, Emma. I’ll be here when you want to talk. I’ll explain everything, I promise._

The notification indicated that she read the message almost instantly, though he didn’t get a reply from her. It may only have been a phone call that was cut off too quickly, but it was more than Killian had dared to possibly hope for since he was pushed away so forcefully at her door not long ago.

He meant what he’d said in the text; he would wait patiently until she was ready to hear what he had to say, to explain, and to apologise for his actions.

He fell into bed five minutes later, holding his phone to his chest and willing for a message from Emma to come through. It didn’t, of course, but he was able to fall asleep easier than he expected, slightly comforted by the fact that she had at least made some attempt to contact him.

His sleep was not restful, however. Killian woke up several times in the night, and tossed and turned fruitlessly. Whenever he closed his eyes, he was back at that dreaded night, fleeing in a hurry, feeling sick to his stomach and head spinning with regret. It was nothing new, however; he’d constantly been kept awake by such dreams, always the same lingering guilt hanging over him.

But tonight, while he longed for sleep to arrive once more and drag him under, he made a stern vow to himself, to do anything in his power to explain to Emma. Five years later and she still might not be ready for the truth, but the truth is what drove Killian away in the first place.

He’d be damned if he let it happen again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to make a HUGE apology for the almost three month delay with posting this chapter. I've had exams and work and holidays and other things as well as struggling with my mental health as of late (which I mentioned in the note on my latest one shot). If anyone has been waiting for an update, you are incredibly patient and I am floored that my writing deserves your patience and attention. 
> 
> Honestly, I can't apologise enough. But without further ado, here's the third chapter! (Emotional angst ahoy, mates!)

> Emma awoke the next morning with a sense of regret hanging over her. In a moment of weakness, she’d deemed it, she had dug out Killian’s new number that Liam had sent her years ago when he’d first left. Her heart pounded in anticipation as the phone rang, but it suddenly became too much, too soon, as she quickly ended the call before he even answered.
> 
> A text came through almost immediately, and the air rushed out of Emma’s lungs.
> 
> _I’m sorry, Emma. I’ll be here when you want to talk. I’ll explain everything, I promise._
> 
> Choosing to ignore it, she hastily set her phone on the nightstand next to her and rolled over.
> 
> And so here she was, faced with a problem in the form of Killian Jones, ex best friend.
> 
> She knew deep down that there was no way she’d be able to let him leave her life again. It had broken her beyond belief, losing the one person who’d sworn time and time again that he _wouldn’t be another one to disappear._ But Emma also knew that it would take time, god, so much time, for her to be able to let Killian back in again and pick up their friendship as if he hadn’t been absent for _five whole fucking years._ She kept replaying Killian’s text in her head.
> 
> At least, she thought, he had the decency to let _her_ control the pace, should she ever actually _want_ to confront him. But the bitterness Emma felt towards him was slowly melting away into something remarkably different. Something more akin to pity, or to understanding. And she felt weak for it, of all things.
> 
> Because Emma was nothing if not stubborn. More often than not, it landed her in trouble, but it was her stubbornness that made her Emma fucking Swan. She tried to push Killian from her mind, to forget that he’d just shown up at her door, but really, who was she kidding? The man was her best friend for god knows how long, even if he did just up and leave her.
> 
> Like Neal.
> 
>  _Killian isn’t Neal,_ she reminded herself. And though the stubborn side of her wanted to argue that maybe he was, deep down she knew that Killian would have at least had good intentions at heart. Neal, _the fucking coward,_ had left her to avoid jail time, and she had only narrowly avoided it herself.
> 
> But maybe that’s exactly why Emma couldn’t find it in her to reach out to Killian and demand an explanation. She knew that she’d have to let go of her anger, her bitterness and give way to sympathy and acceptance instead. Two emotions that scared the absolute _shit_ out of her.
> 
> Thus, she concluded, it was easier, though more tiring, to stick to a path of solitude, surrounded by her walls that kept virtually everyone and everything out. She was brought back to reality by a sharp and insistent knock at her door. Comforted by the fact that Killian wouldn’t dare to come back again this morning, she padded her way down the hallway and opened her door to be faced with an overly chirpy Ruby Lucas.
> 
> “Morning, sunshine,” she deadpanned as she strode past Emma and into her living room. Typical Ruby behaviour.
> 
> “Any reason why you’ve come knocking at —” Emma glanced at the wall clock quickly,” “— eight thirty in the morning?” she groused.
> 
> “Is Killian Jones showing up at your door at midnight a valid reason?” Ruby shot back. Emma rolled her eyes. “That’s what I thought, lady. Now, are you going to willingly give me the details or do I have to hold you at gunpoint for them?”
> 
> “One, how the fuck did you find out so fast? Two, the worst you could do is hold me at spatula-point.”
> 
> “David texted me at, like, one this morning or some shit. Now, Emma Swan, tell me what the hell happened with Mr. Blue Eyes last night or I will make Granny ban you for a month.” Ruby smirked while she folded her arms.
> 
> “You wouldn’t!” Emma gasped, perhaps a tad too dramatically.
> 
> “Wouldn’t I? Now, spill it, Swan.” She huffed, admitting defeat.
> 
> “You obviously already know that Killian showed up at my door at midnight last night.”
> 
> “Do go on,” Ruby grinned.
> 
> “Well, he said he wanted to explain.”
> 
> Ruby eyed her knowingly. “I see where this is going.”
> 
> “So why do you need me to tell you?” Emma exclaimed.
> 
> “Because I want to hear your side of the story.”
> 
> “That implies you’ve already spoken to Killian,” she said, glaring at Ruby.
> 
> “It doesn’t matter for now. Get on with the story, already!”
> 
> Holding her glare, Emma continued reluctantly. “But I refused to give him the chance, okay? You already knew that!”
> 
> Ruby sighed deeply. “I want to know why you didn’t let him explain. Ems, you spent five years wondering _why_. _Why_ he left you. _Why_ he didn’t contact you at all. _Why_ he didn’t leave a note. But when he finally comes knocking, willing to give you all those answers, you shut him out. What’s going on?”
> 
> Emma looked down at the floor, fighting back the tears that were welling up in her eyes and choking down a sob. “I can’t let him hurt me again, Rubes,” she said meekly.
> 
> Ruby smiled sadly, knowing exactly why Emma felt the way she did. “From what I’ve gathered, Killian isn’t leaving again, now or in the distant future. Maybe you should give him a chance.”
> 
> “What reason could possibly be good enough for him to disappear like that?” Emma shot back bitterly. Ruby’s face went from a soft smile to a rigid expression. “He’s told you, hasn’t he? Why did he leave?” Emma demanded.
> 
> Her friend grimaced at the accusation. “No, Killian hasn’t told me explicitly. In fact, he’s not said anything apart from what happened last night and how destroyed he is right now.”
> 
> Emma looked confused. “But you know his reason?”
> 
> “I’ve guessed. As has pretty much everyone else.”
> 
> She stared back in disbelief. “And no one told me? You’re kidding, right?”
> 
> Ruby shook her head. “You need to hear it from Killian. I won’t interfere when no one has any proof.”
> 
> “You can be a real bitch sometimes, you know that, Lucas?” Emma spat.
> 
> A bright, sarcastic smile was part of Ruby’s response. “That’s one of the reasons we’re friends, babe. But now I want to know: are you really going to shut him out, or are you going to give him the one chance he wants?” The smile disappeared, to be replaced by a serious and accusing expression.
> 
> “What’s it to you?”
> 
> “Five years of a cold, snappy Emma Swan is more than enough for me. I want to see you happy again, you know? Like when Killian was around.”
> 
> Emma shook her head again. “He was an ass to me in the year before he left. _He_ shut me out first. _He_ turned cold before I did. _He_ was the one in the wrong. I did nothing wrong, not that I know of, and he just became someone else.” She refused to cry over _Killian fucking Jones,_ of all people.
> 
> “Emma, you really need to talk to him. Even if you can’t let him back into your life, at least you’ll still get the closure you’be wanted for half a decade. Think about it, okay?” Ruby urged. There was something in her words, her tone, that made Emma believe that maybe giving Killian an opportunity wouldn’t be as disastrous as she thought it would be. “I have to go to the diner now, but just consider it. Promise me?”
> 
> Sighing, Emma replied, “I’ll think about it. Not promising that I’ll actually speak to him, though.”
> 
> A grin formed on her friend’s lips. “I think you will. Bye now!” And with a wave, she was out of her apartment.
> 
> For the third time in under twenty four hours, Emma was left alone to think about a certain Brit who’d waltzed into her life like it was nothing. And for the second time in those twenty four hours, she felt her bitter and angry side losing the battle against her curious side.
> 
> She thought back to Ruby’s words. Closure would be nice, no matter the outcome. It would be nicer if she had her best friend back at the end of it, but just having the answers she’d longed for would be satisfactory. But with Killian’s look of brokenness haunting her constantly, Emma couldn’t help but think that perhaps she’d already forgiven him for what he did. His reason (or potentially reasons) looked as if it had loomed over him from day one, as if it had only brought an onslaught of pain with it. Emma knew the feeling all too well.
> 
> Perhaps that was why part of her had already forgiven him.
> 
> Maybe the decision to speak to him was as easy as Ruby had implied after all. No, the decision had been easy for her in the first place, but she’d come to a different conclusion. But now she was on the other end of the spectrum. The most surprising thing, however, was not how easily she came to a decision, nor was it the decision itself. No, Emma was surprised at how she didn’t feel weak or pathetic for deciding to give him the chance he wanted (needed.)
> 
> * * *
> 
>  
> 
> _I love you._
> 
> Those were the words sitting in a text ready to be sent to Emma from Killian’s phone at any point.
> 
> But he never went through with it.
> 
> After he’d sent the text last night, he’d typed out dozens of other messages, each ending with the same three words that would either give him a chance to speak to her, or drive her away forever. If he hadn’t already done so.
> 
> He’d decided to give Emma all the time and space she needed. If that meant that she never wanted to speak to him again, Killian would understand and walk away with a shattered heart. For the second time, technically. The words were staring back at him on his phone screen, his heart jumping every time he read them. After a confrontation with a Ruby Lucas earlier that morning, he’d almost pressed send too many times to count.
> 
> _“Long time no see, Jones,” was the first thing Ruby said as she strode into Killian’s bare apartment._
> 
> _“Missed me much, then?” Ruby smirked._
> 
> _“We’ve all missed you. Just someone in particular has missed you more than anyone. Can you guess who?"_
> 
> _Killian’s heart jumped. And then stilled, and sank. “Don’t lie to me, Ruby. She hates my guts.”_
> 
> _“You can shut the fuck up, Jones. You’ve not been here for five years. You haven’t seen her, the way she’s been acting.” Ruby’s tone was condescending, accusing and cold._
> 
> _“Enlighten me.”_
> 
> _There was no hesitation in Ruby’s reply. “In a word, Killian, she’s been broken. You_ destroyed _her when you left. How many times did you promise her that you wouldn’t leave like everyone else? That you’d always be by her side, no matter what happened?” When Killian remained silent, she continued easily. “I’ve never seen her cry more than the night you left. Not even when Neal, the fucking asshole, left her with that robbery investigation. She trusted you more than anyone, and you broke that trust. Why? What happened, Killian?” Ruby was seething now, memories of a weeping Emma flashing through her mind. The nights in the week that followed where she drank herself into oblivion, drowning her sorrows in rum, because it was ‘his drink.’_
> 
> _Killian’s worst fears had been confirmed by this information. Too many times had he been kept awake by visions of Emma curled in a ball crying because she’d lost the biggest constant in her life. Too many times had he been in that exact situation himself. When he didn’t answer, Ruby’s face softened, almost as if realisation had dawned on her._
> 
> _“I knew it.”_
> 
> _He snapped his head up quickly, wiping away the tears that had fallen without his consent or knowledge. “What, exactly, did you know?”_
> 
> _“You love her.”_
> 
> _“Fuck off, Lucas.”_
> 
> _“Admit it, Jones! You’ve been in love with her for_ years _, and you couldn’t take being_ just friends _, could you?”_
> 
> _Pain, anger and frustration rose up within him, making Killian’s blood boil. “I will not admit anything to you. It is none of your business as to why I left. My reasons involve Emma, and Emma alone,” he snapped._
> 
> _“Talk to her,” was the reply._
> 
> _Killian scoffed. “You think I haven’t tried?”_
> 
> _Ruby shrugged. “She’ll let you in at some point. Emma will want answers. You have to give them to her.”_
> 
> _“I’ve told her that. She didn’t reply to my text.”_
> 
> _“She needs time, Killian.”_
> 
> _“I know. I’ll give her as much as she needs. She deserves it, and more. I hurt her, and believe me when I say I have never hated myself for anything more.”_
> 
> _The sad smile he had seen too many times in his life took up residence on his friend’s face. “Whether you admit it, to me, or yourself, or anyone else, you love that girl. Deeply.”_
> 
> _“Once again, fuck off. I am not in love with Emma Swan.”_
> 
> _The lie almost ripped his heart out._
> 
> _“If you say so,” Ruby breezed._
> 
> _“I do say so. Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Killian grumbled._
> 
> _“As a matter of fact, I do. Emma’s apartment,” she smirked._
> 
> _“Ruby, you will not say anything, you hear me? Emma needs to hear it from me.”_
> 
> _“You basically just confirmed that you love her.”_
> 
> _“I did nothing of the sort. I don’t love her.” Killian huffed._
> 
> _“Goodbye, Jones.”_
> 
> _“Bye, Lucas.”_
> 
> So here he was, thumb sitting over the send button before he locked his phone, then unlocked it, cursed under his breath and repeated. Killian’s heart ached for another life in which his best friend loved him back. A life where he could hold her in his arms, kiss her, take her on dates freely. One where she’d never have to worry about being abandoned because as long as he was alive, he’d love her with all he was. He frequently had dreams-turned-nightmares where he and Emma were in love, but then the dream would morph into a hellish scenario where she’d shun him, always with the same words. _“I don’t do love. Not anymore.”_
> 
> What he told Ruby couldn’t have been further from the truth. But the only person he wanted to admit his feelings to was Emma herself. The dull ache became stifling and constricting. With trembling hands, he deleted the three words that almost brought ters to his eyes every time he read them, and instead constructed a different text.
> 
> _Emma,_
> 
> _Perhaps it is too much of me to ask, too soon. But I desperately need to talk to you and explain myself. I will understand completely if you choose to want nothing to do with me afterwards, but it is the very least I can do if you allow me to give you the truth._
> 
> _Please don’t ignore me, love. I want to do right by you, despite my wrongdoings in the past._
> 
> Killian waited for a response with clenched fists and bated breath, and felt the tension leak from his body when a text from Emma arrived 5 minutes later.
> 
> **You can come to mine tonight. Seven o’clock.**
> 
> A rush of air escaped Killian’s lungs as he received the best news he could at this time. The thought of telling Emma finally, after six torturous years, terrified him. But she needed to know. Even if she ran, and he never spoke to her again, she’d finally have the answers she’s deserved for half a decade.
> 
> _Thank you, Emma. I’ll be forever in your debt._
> 
> **Maybe not forever.**
> 
> He stared blankly at her message. Too dumbfounded to come up with a response, he simply locked his phone and smiled weakly to himself. He was only able to think about how maybe he hadn’t driven her away completely, just yet.
> 
> _Maybe not forever._


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for being patient if you haven't given up on me just yet! Life has seriously sucked recently and I've mentioned previously that I've struggled emotionally and mentally, but the past few weeks have been particularly bad. But I'm hoping I'm on the recovery side of it now, so I aim to update more frequently. Again, apologies for the delay and thank you if you're still reading!

It was 10 hours until Killian would finally be able to say the three words to his best friend’s face that had pained him for three years. He wasn’t naïve, very much the opposite, in fact. He fully understood that Emma would probably shun him out and ask him to leave her life for good.

And despite the agony he was sure to feel, he would do it. Because he felt as if that pain would be nothing compared to what Emma dealt with for six years. Of course, he’d felt pain since the moment he realised he loved her, knowing she’d never return his affections. But leaving was the worst thing he could have possibly done when he knew just how badly Emma had suffered in the past.

Yep. Killian Jones was a complete and utter bastard.

And so with the ten hour wait, Killian attempted to plan how he was going to tell Emma the truth. He couldn’t just show up at her door (again), smile sadly at her and then blurt out, “hey, sorry I went AWOL for five years, I love you,” and expect her to just accept it.

Perhaps he’d try to start a casual conversation. _How’s your week — sorry, past five years been?_

Or not.

He sighed and sat down on the edge of his bed, rubbing his palm over his face in exasperation. The circumstances for Killian admitting his feelings were less than perfect. Preferably, he would have liked for it to be because he wanted to, not because Emma needed the closure she’d been deprived of for years. In his head, tonight was only going to end badly. When he’d utter those words, full of love and regret and desperation, she’d close up, go on the defensive and kick him from her life like he did when he disappeared. And he felt nauseated at the thought of things unfolding in such a way. Nauseated at the fact that she’d deny him such a simple act of holding her, comforting her, purely because the only reason she’d be in distress was because of _him_. He ached for a life in which he was more to Emma Swan than her former best friend, ached to be the one who could kiss her, hold her, _love_ her. If Emma demanded the truth straight away, she’d get it. If she needed a rundown of the years gone by without her, he’d provide it.

 

* * *

 

From the moment Emma had sent the text, she had felt nothing but overwhelming and all-consuming anxiousness. For at least an hour, after crawling back into bed, she had stared at her ceiling blankly envisioning all the possible scenarios that could unfold later that night. All of them involved both she and Killian crying.

Some of them were of her refusing to accept Killian’s excuse, which then led to her forcing him out of her apartment (and life) again. And even though that’s what she thought would be logical, she couldn’t stand the idea of things going down in such a way.

The way she preferred to imagine things happening was an emotional conversation, with tears streaming and broken voices and clenched fists held at sides in fear of grasping for each other. For too long Emma had convinced herself that she hated Killian, but now he was back she knew she’d been deceiving herself. She knew that she wanted, _needed_ , her best friend back in her life to stabilise her again. Killian had always been the first one she’d turn to for advice; no one else could fill that role when he left. Which is why now, after three hours — _three hours?_ — she had finally moved out of bed with the conclusion that no matter what, she’d at least _try_ to let Killian back in.

Perhaps it wasn’t what he deserved. But perhaps she needed him more than he needed a second chance.

 

Ruby came back to visit her later on in the day, this time at the more respectable hour of one o’clock in the afternoon.

“So even though I saw you this morning, you texted me asking to see me again. Does this mean there have been any advancements, blondie?” she asked from behind her coffee mug, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“He’s coming over tonight,” Emma responded simply. Ruby choked a little on her coffee before placing ( _slamming_ ) her mug onto the counter with what would be comedic speed if it wasn’t one of Emma’s favourite mugs.

“Hold the fuck up. Tonight? Ems, I know I said to think about it but this is great. Like, fan-fucking-tastic.”

She shrugged in nonchalance. “Better to rip the band aid off, right?”

“Yeah, but this isn’t ripping the band aid off. Well, it is, but that’s not why you’re doing it, is it?” Ruby accused.

“Yes it is!” Emma argued feebly, even to her own ears. Her friend just smirked in satisfaction, knowing she’d won the argument.

“You and Killian are so alike, you know that?”

“That’s why we’re — _we were_ — friends.”

“You just used present tense!” Ruby said gleefully, clapping her hands like a child.

Emma groaned and rolled her eyes in protest.  “Slip of the tongue!”

“Emma Swan does not have slips of the tongue. That’s a fact.”

“Stop it.”

Ruby pushed herself away from the counter to move closer to Emma and put her hands on her arms gently. “You can lie to me all you want, Ems, but I know the truth. Despite what you think, you actually _want_ to see Killian again. I’m proud of you, okay?” Emma gave her friend a weak smile and nodded.

“I’ll let you know how it goes.” Ruby beamed at her.

“It’ll be fine, stop worrying. I’ve gotta go now, David and Mary Margaret said they wanted to stop by, too.”  

“Bye, Lucas.”

“Good luck, Swan.”

 

Half an hour later, it was David and Mary Margaret standing in her kitchen with fresh mugs of coffee (though not any of Emma’s favourites. She wasn’t risking an _actual_ smashed mug this time.) “You didn’t tell me that Killian was back,” Mary Margaret stated, but there was no spite or malice behind her words.

Emma snorted. “Yeah, sorry. But David here,” she gestured vaguely in his direction, “obviously filled that piece of information in.”

“Are you going to speak to him?” David cut in.

Emma nodded silently. “Tonight.” David looked surprised, while Mary Margaret just smiled warmly.

“That’s soon, isn’t it?” David questioned.

“Best to know sooner rather than later, right? Like you said, I’ve essentially waited five years for this moment. Why wait any longer?”

“True, but the Emma Swan we all know and love would have spent at least one week debating and overthinking something like this. He first showed up, what, about fourteen hours ago?” David’s tone wasn’t accusatory, or condescending.

“Well, I think you’re making the right decision, Emma,” Mary Margaret smiled warmly. Emma took a deep breath before giving her response.

“I want to see him.”

Somehow achieving the impossible, Mary Margaret’s smile widened, and David even gave a smile of his own. “That’s great, Emma,” David said softly. Emma tapped the counter anxiously.

“Is it too soon? Should I have waited?”

Mary Margaret spoke up again. “Listen, Emma. You just admitted that you want to see him. You’re the one calling the shots here, aren’t you? Do what feels right, now what you feel like you should or have to do. We’ll support you no matter what,” she said gently, full of understanding. David nodded in agreement and pulled Emma into a hug.

“I’ll tell you guys how it went afterwards,” Emma said after her hug with Mary Margaret. David chuckled and shook his head.

“No need. Just text Ruby, she’ll let us all know.”

“Of course she will.”

“Good luck, Emma. Hope it goes well,” Mary Margaret said before she and David left.

 

The four hours since David and Mary Margaret’s visit had flown by, and before Emma knew it, 7pm was almost upon her. She’d ordered Chinese takeout, but was now regretting it in case she seemed too eager to Killian. Then she scoffed at herself. Killian would never view her as too eager in this situation.

And then the doorbell rang.

With trembling fingers and shaky breaths, Emma walked slowly over to her front door where she knew Killian was probably waiting in a similar fashion to her, if not worse. Biting the bullet, she opened the door and surprised herself with a small smile to greet him.

“Hi,” she said quietly.

A flicker of hope at seeing her smile and a gentle greeting lit up Killian’s face for a brief second, before morphing into a small smile to match Emma’s. “Evening, Emma.”

“Come in. I bought Chinese. Only if you want some, I mean. You don’t have to.” Inwardly, she cursed herself for sounding so nervous and rambling on.

“You didn’t have to do that, but Chinese would be lovely,” she reassured her calmly. She opened the door wider and he took a silent breath before stepping into her apartment for the first time in five long years.

 

* * *

 

Killian’s pulse had been sky high from the moment he’d stepped foot in Emma’s apartment complex, only increasing with each step he took towards her door. It had threatened to deafen him when he first knocked at her door, then his heart wanted to burst through his chest when he walked inside her apartment.

Though it should have done the opposite, the sight of Emma calmed him slightly, even more so when she gave him a shy smile to invite him in. It sparked hope inside of him, hope that maybe they could salvage what they once had.

“Do you want a drink? I, uh, have beer. Or rum, if you like,” she asked nervously.

“Water is fine, Emma, thank you,” he smiled again in reassurance, but berating himself at the same time. It was awful to see her so unsure in her own home, and knowing it was down to him was even worse.

He followed her into the kitchen and stood silently at the island counter, fiddling with his rings before she placed the glass in front of him, along with several cartons of takeout. Looking up at her, he saw her chewing her lip while opening some of her own cartons.

“Emma,” he said gently. She looked up at him instantly. “We should talk.”

She nodded solemnly before responding. “How about you start with what you’ve been doing for the past half a decade? How was London? And Liam?”

“Emma, I —”

“No, Killian,” she said sternly. “You said you would explain everything. I want to know how you’ve been doing. I’m not ready to hear the reason just yet. Please, just tell me?” She was begging by the end of it, her snappiness fading as her words dragged on.

“I did promise that, didn’t I?” Emma nodded in earnest. “Aye, I’ll tell you.

“I moved in with Liam when I first got to London. He was expecting me. Had the guest room set up for me already. It was good to see him, you know? Skype calls and Facebook status updates are only good for so long. Obviously, I didn’t have a job there, but Liam somehow called in a few favours and I found work as a lawyer again. I enjoyed it.

“I was there when Liam first met his now wife, Elsa. We were out at a pub one night, and I dared him to ask one of the lasses at the table next to us out for dinner. He did it, the shameless git. But she accepted and from then on I got to see my brother fall in love. Seeing _anyone_ fall in love is a wonderful thing, but watching it happen to my brother made it even more special.

“I was the best man at his wedding. Told some embarrassing stories from our youth, of course. He and Elsa are a great match, and I truly am happy for them. But I couldn’t help but feel a tad jealous of their love.

“Aside from that, my five years have been consumed with work and spending time with Liam and Elsa, mainly.” Killian told his story between mouthfuls of his Chinese and kept darting his eyes back and forwards between Emma’s face and his plate.

“You’re jealous of your brother’s love for his wife?” Emma questioned, and Killian instantly knew he was at risk of just blurting it out.

“Aye, I am.”

“Why?” “Because I suppose it’s something I’ve always dreamed of. I want to love someone with everything that I am, to support them no matter what. If they loved me even half of the amount that I loved them then I’d die a happy man,” he said with a sad smile.

“Me too,” Emma whispered, barely audibly.

Killian’s heart jumped. Then he shook himself mentally. “But you prefer your walls.”

“Yeah, I do. But I’ve always dreamed of a love like you just described. It’s so tiring pushing everyone away, I know _that_. People have told me for years, but I _know_. It’s just the thought of being abandoned again.”

After an uncomfortable silence, Killian decides to try and tell her the reason behind his leaving. “Do you want to know why now?” he asked tentatively.

Emma visibly froze up for a few seconds, but turned to him sll the same. He saw tears glistening in her eyes, and her voice was quiet and shaky as she said, “If you’re ready.”

Killian gave her another small smile, “I don’t think I’ll ever be ready, Emma. But you need to know. And I just want to say first how sorry I am for everything. I’m so sorry for leaving you when I promised I wouldn’t. I caused you pain when I was meant to protect you from it. God, I can't imagine it, love.” He saw the tears fall steadily down her cheeks and wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and cradle her against him. Tears of his own formed and proceeded to fall as he looked to Emma with a face full of sorrow and regret. “I’d take it all back if I could, you know? I’d have left a note, or taken my phone.” The lump in his throat made it increasingly difficult for Killian to speak. “Maybe I wouldn’t have even left the country. It would have depended on how you reacted.”

“But you still left,” Emma sobbed. “What for? Why did you give up your life here? Why did you leave everyone? Leave _me_?” The way she emphasised ‘me’ showed the true extent of her pain.

“You’ll hate me for this, Emma Swan, but I want you to know I am full of nothing but regret because of what I did,” he choked out hoarsely.

“Just fucking tell me, Killian!” Emma cried through frustrated tears.

“I’m sorry, Emma. I left because _I am in love with you._ Madly, deeply, completely and utterly _in love with you.”_

It looked as if Emma had stopped breathing before she got up from her seat and moved over to stand in front of the window looking over the dark skyline. She hugged herself tightly, and her form seemed to be weakening by the second before Killian rushed over to her where she collapsed to the floor in his arms. Sobs wracked her body as she fought to get away from him, but he held her tightly, unwilling to let her go in such a state.

“I’m sorry, Emma,” he whispered into the top of her head, “I’m so sorry.” Emma’s fight to get away from him weakened, as she just let herself be held and rocked.

“You left me,” she choked through heavy sobs. “You can’t love me if you were able to leave for five years.”

“I was selfish,” he whispered through tears of his own. “It hurt too much to know that while I could hug you, it was under the mask of friendship. I couldn’t kiss you. I couldn’t carry you to bed when you fell asleep during the movie. I couldn’t take you out on dates. It hurt — _still hurts_ — so much to love you, to be around you, so I left. It was the worst decision of my life, Emma. Please know that.”

She refused to look at him, still staring dead ahead into to darkness. Her cries showed no sign of letting up, and seemed to be getting increasingly heavier. “Did you even think about how I felt?” she whispered brokenly.

“Not a day in five years has gone by where I haven’t thought about it,” he promised solemnly.

Emma finally broke free from his hold and stood abruptly, turning to face him. “You could have come back at any time,” she accused.

“I shouldn’t have told you,” Killian said sadly. “I should have just said that I needed to see Liam. Needed space.”

“No, Killian. _Stop_ making this about you! You really don’t give a shit about me, about _any_ of this, do you?” Emma was shouting now, her tears falling due to anger more than grief as a result. With every word that flew from Emma’s mouth, Killian’s heart just kept breaking and cracking. He could hear the anguish in her voice, see it etched onto her face. He stood too, putting three feet of distance between them.

“No matter what you think, Emma, I have been in love with you for years. You are the most important thing to me, and I will never forgive myself for what I did.”

“I shouldn’t forgive you,” she said quietly again.

Nodding his head, he looked at her in the eyes as he said, “Aye, love. I don’t deserve it. Deserve _you_.”

“But I need you,” were the words she whispered, barely audible in the silence of the room around them.

“You need someone who won’t leave you,” he said through gritted teeth.

“I need _you_ ,” she said in what sounded like fear. “I’ve always needed you, Killian. You are my best friend, and god _damnit_ , I still need you even after you destroyed me!”

Killian took a tentative step forwards and outstretched his arms slightly, offering Emma a safe haven to purge her emotional pain. She hesitated for a few seconds before pressing herself tightly to his chest, clinging to him with the fear that maybe he’d walk out again. He cradled her head in one hand and wrapped the other securely around her waist as the tears began to flow from both of them once more.

“Emma, unless you force me to leave, I will stay in your life for as long as you want me to,” he whispered. “I can’t do that to you again.”

“I feel weak,” she admitted meekly. “I feel weak for needing you again.”

“I can’t describe how much I loathe myself with the way I treated you.”

She pulled away from him, but clutched his hands, still unwilling to let go of him. She guided them to her couch, which held fonder memories of them both from drunken movie nights or a quiet catch up. “Can I talk now?” she asked, wiping away a tear.

“Of course, Swan,” he smiled back, “talk away.”

“When you first showed up, I felt sick to my stomach. Rage, grief, disbelief, whatever. The fact that you just… _appeared_ like that, it was like my wishes had finally been granted. I just wanted you back. My best friend. But I suppose I was just fantasising most of the time, because I was nowhere near prepared for it to actually happen.

“When I sent you away, that’s when I broke again. You know, I only cried for a week after you left. I refused to let someone else break me. But seeing you again just brought back the pain tenfold, and I snapped. I wanted to hate you, I really did, but I couldn’t do it. Maybe it’s because you looked so different, haunted, almost.

“When I said you could come over, I couldn’t stop imagining different scenarios of how we would have handled things. My heart always raced more when I thought about me sending you away for a second time. And even though I’d started to accept last night, that was when I realised I couldn’t spend any more time without you as my best friend.

“When you came over, I couldn’t help but smile a little. I guess you always had that effect on me. And I know that we’re can’t just rewind the clock to five years ago, go back to how we were. I just want to start afresh, if that’s okay? Like, relearn each other?” Throughout her whole speech, Emma barely looked Killian in the eye, too scared of what she’d see.

Killian tugged at Emma’s hands to get her to look at him, to get her to recognise how serious he was. “I have no plans to leave again, Emma. I’d like nothing more than for us to be friends again. Aye, it’ll take time, but I’m willing to wait forever if it means I still have you as a friend.”

“How can you do that, though?”

“Do what, Swan?” Killian asked, genuinely confused.

Emma bit her lip hesitantly. “I mean… you said… love? How can we be friends if we both know you want more than that?” She sounded so scared again, scared that he was going to regret being around her when it was the reason he left in the first place.

“Swan, please believe me when I say that I need your friendship more than I do your love. The world, or mine, at least, is a much bleaker place when you’re not in it. I’ve missed our friendship so much, Emma. I don’t want to be without it again.” And the words pained him greatly, but they couldn’t be more true. If Emma Swan was only ever his best friend, then he could die a happy man.

“I just want things to be like old times,” she sighed.

“Aye, love, me too.”

“Can I see you tomorrow?” Emma asked shyly.

_As if he could deny her anything._

“I’ve no plans, Swan. Anything in mind?”

“A walk along the harbour?”

“I would love that. I’ll pick you up at 10 tomorrow morning, then?”

The smile she gave him sent a rush of renewed hope and warmth through him. “Don’t be late,” she smiled teasingly.

“I wouldn’t dare,” he smiled back.

Silently, Killian understood that it was time for him to leave, and he made his way to the front door. Emma tugged on his hand before he unlocked it, and pulled him into a tight hug, which he reciprocated gladly.

“Goodnight, Emma,” he said softly as they broke apart.

“Goodnight, Killian.” As Killian walked down the hallway, he couldn’t help but think of the contrast between the previous night and tonight. Before, he was consumed with melancholy, walking with his head bowed. But tonight, there was a gentle smile on his face, and his steps were considerably lighter.

He’d never felt so hopeful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews and kudos are much appreciated x

**Author's Note:**

> reviews are much appreciated!


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